I don’t give a monkey’s...

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I don’t care that no less an authority than Kleenex Collection Pocket Packs thinks its exterior declares “This is how I want you to see me” while its interior reveals “who I really am”. My handbag can say what it likes – it’s a strip of cow’s buttock with a zip and only exists because I can’t carry my keys, purse, make-up bag, phone and hairbrush around individually. What my handbag says about me is, “I don’t have eight arms.”

But there’s a sector of the apparently sane world that seems to think handbags are not poncified haversacks, but prophets